


Vanguard Legacy

by Pyrosnowman



Series: Neo Grimoire [3]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 08:53:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13361016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pyrosnowman/pseuds/Pyrosnowman
Summary: The Vanguard is a cooperation first and foremost, but you can't just slap anyone in and expect it to work. There's a time to step down and a time to step up, and Andal Brask has always been the one most aware of his duties.





	Vanguard Legacy

“You’re really making this dare?”

Andal smirked. “Gonna turn it down?”

Cayde chewed on it for a moment, before slowly shaking his head. “Since when have you known me to turn down a bet? Just don’t see why _now_ you’re throwing this one at me. Thought you loved your job. Sitting at a desk, ordering greenhorns about, all that jazz.”

“I do,” Andal replied, not a trace of sarcasm in his voice. “The Vanguard is what keeps the Tower from collapsing in on itself, and we make sure the Consensus doesn’t turn on each other every week.”

“So why call it quits now?” Cayde pressed.

Andal’s smile took a slightly more somber form, and Cayde got the terrible feeling that Andal desperately _wanted_ to say something, but _couldn’t._ He got like that sometimes, always telling Cayde that “Someone who can only understand by doing wouldn’t get words.” It was the truth, Cayde knew that well enough not to take offense. He wasn’t stupid, not by any means, but things didn’t really click with him until he saw it for himself. Still, Cayde missed the days when the two would laugh and joke easily without that look crossing Andal’s face. Cayde had always been the wilder (by quite a long shot) of the two, but Andal was still a joker and a gambler at heart. Now though, even his jokes had a bit of an edge to them. Their conversation about Cayde being Rasputin wasn’t just for laughs, and while the two of them had been in stitches about it afterwards, Cayde suspected Andal had more than just absurdity on his mind.

“Look, Brask, I don’t really _get_ what you’re doing here, but I just wanna ask one more time before we do this. You sure I’m the right choice for this?”

Andal laughed at that. “Six, you’re the _only_ the choice.” Cayde wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

 

***

Andal still remembered the first time he met his Vanguard. Osiris had spared him a terse nod and launched into a discussion about where the next strike would be most effective, and what subclasses would prove best for the job. Saint 14 had welcomed him aboard warmly, and then immediately pulled Osiris back to the reality that the City was still reeling too hard from the Battle of the Six fronts for an effective series of off planet strikes.

Neither of them had noticed a fireteam walk in, bruised and battered from the wilds, and ready to hand in a report.

Andal had quickly realized that the Vanguard wasn’t a collection of a Hunter, Warlock, and Titan meant to represent each class and their strengths, but rather the Vanguard was a careful balancing act of personalities that would best balance the needs and wants of the Consensus with the military duties of the Tower Guardians. Osiris was wild but forward thinking, and he responded to every threat with action and fire. He could see consequences of consequences, and wanted to act in advance to manipulate events into their favor, but he had no tact and little care for the matters at home. Saint 14, infamous for his crusades against the Fallen, was intend on protecting Earth above all else. They were a good balance for each other, certainly, but they still struggled. While they were both heroes and figures so mighty that they had been defied among the Tower, neither understood the importance of interpersonal relationships. Osiris would go on for hours about the proper combination of subclasses in a strike, but it was Andal who knew which Guardians by name would best fit that task, and how their dynamics would affect the fireteam. Saint 14, in all his eagerness to protect the City, thought that the best approach to any situation was direct confrontation and had the subtlety of a bared handcannon, so it was Andal who personally dealt with the Consensus, and maneuvered faction politics. Saint 14 and Osiris were names whispered in awe amongst the Tower plaza, but it was Andal who met with the fireteams and debriefed them. He picked up on the details that Osiris would analyze and fully understand, even when the Warlock failed to notice them in the first place, and it was Andal who put together the fireteams that Saint 14 would have patrol the walls so that they had the best compatibility to work together.

Their system _worked_ , and while Andal was never as close with his fellow Vanguard as they were with each other, both of them knew when to defer to him on certain matters.

When Osiris left, and Saint 14 when to chase him, things changed for both the better and the worst. Andal knew Ikora personally (he had met her plenty of times as she trailed behind Osiris, and he had personally assigned her on missions with Cayde 6 more times than he could count because of how well they worked off each other), and she had all of the restraint and in the moment wisdom that Osiris had lacked. She didn’t have her predecessor’s foresight, but she was committed, and never showed the slightest inclination of forsaking her duty. She was fierce and aggressive when she needed to be, but her many years spent as a renegade had taught her when to act and speak, and she was humble in a way so few Warlocks were.

Zavala had an uncanny work ethic, and he was easily able to work on both protecting the City and advancing the front. The newly minted Vanguard Commander never struggled in choosing between the two biggest draws in this war of theirs, and instead fully comprehended the importance of balance between the two. He commanded respect from his part in the War of the Six Fronts, and where Osiris had garnered the title of Commander through power, Zavala had earned the title through _respect_.

Ikora balanced out Zavala’s tendency to leap into action with the information he needed to properly adjust his tactics to achieve victory, and perhaps most impressive of all, both of them were deeply invested in knowing the Guardians under their command.

In short, Andal provided assets to the two of them that they already had in spades. He came to understand that Ikora, for all her brashness and temper in her younger days, had tempered that side of her with a sense of duty and patience (no doubt a necessity after working under Osiris for as long as she had). Zavala and Ikora rarely struggled on knowing when to act and hold back, but Zavala’s tactics (while effective and by the book perfect) lacked the all too important ability to improvise, and Ikora’s improvisation were too much of a shotgun approach—all power and force but lacking nuance. And both of them were by far too serious, and Guardians, known for being best when they were wild forces of nature given a direction to wreak destruction, struggled under their somewhat overly disciplined leadership. They needed that wildness in their leadership, that ability to improvise any situation and wreak havoc in every movement. In short, they needed someone like Cayde, or better yet, Cayde himself. Andal Brask was many things, but he was no Cayde 6, and he was smart enough to know when it was time to step down for the better of all. He just hoped his age-old friend would understand when the time came.

 

***

The Titan and Warlock Vanguard passed on their seat when it was time, when they either died or left, and it often went to a rising star amongst their ranks or a personal apprentice. Hunters did things differently. All Guardians had a streak of madness and illogical daring in them (comes with looking death square in the eye on a daily basis and being yanked back by a talkative sprite of a robot companion), but Hunters were _infamous_ for it. Oh, Warlocks were obsessive in their passions and would lose their minds to the depth of the secrets and power they pursued, and Titans would become so drunk on combat that they would lose themselves to the thrill of it all ditch firearms in favor of fists and headbutts—even against the imposing might of the bloodthirsty Cabal Gladiators, but it was the _Hunters_ that spun legends of infamy and madness amongst their ranks. Stories of walking into enemy territory with nothing but their telltale combat knife and walking out with a cloak made from the torn skin and flags of their enemies. Hunters, who were known to walk into combat laughing and shooting from the hip and landing every shot perfectly just because they could, Hunters, who were assigned assassination missions because only they could walk in and out of a room unseen and leave nothing but the cold grasp of death in their wake. It would follow that their manner of succession would have to entice their wild “sensibilities”. Thus came the Vanguard Dare, the only bet where victory could be dreaded by the winning party. There were no rules, as a dare between Hunters would of course be full of cheating and trickery (all Hunters were known cheats), but it relied upon the peculiar code of honor that all Hunters held onto: _always_ repay your debts, and always honor your word when it came down to it.

It was that very code that Cayde now cursed, looking at the cloak in his hands. Andal hadn’t been supposed to _die_ on this damn dare, that duty fell to Taniks. Taniks who still _lived_ and had driven a blade through Andal’s Ghost when the little thing had tried to bring back the fallen Hunter. Cayde didn’t want the duty, the responsibility, the _pain_ that came with being the Hunter Vanguard, but Andal Brask had thought he could do it for some reason, and Cayde was an exo of his word. He would take the position, and he would make sure his friend would be proud.

 

***

Andal had told Zavala that Cayde 6 was a wild card, an idiot, and a loudmouth. Zavala had quickly realized that all of these things were _dreadfully_ true, but it was the second half of what Andal had said that Zavala now understood were so much more important. He remembered his last conversation with the man all too well.

“He’s gonna drive you up the wall, and I really don’t recommend sending him to deal with the Consensus unless you need to buy time or piss them off. Which, you’ll need to eventually, just saying.”

“He hardly seems _Vanguard_ material,” Zavala had grumbled.

“Just hear me out,” chided Andal. “Yeah, he’s a moron, but do you know why he’s so successful in the field?”

Zavala stayed silent.

Andal continued. “He can always puzzle himself out of anything. It might not be instant, it might not be pretty, but if you have Cayde, you’ll never face a situation you can’t get out of. We’ve faced down hell before, Commander, you’ve been at the front lines for it. But we both know the Fallen aren’t packing the same heat that the Cabal, or even the _Hive_ have at their beck and call. Cayde has solo’d expeditions into the Hellmouth and come out whistling, with fully detailed maps of areas we didn’t even know existed and the heads of several commanders tied to his belt. You need that kind of thing here. When your clip runs dry, it pays to have a bootknife, and Cayde’s the best we got.”

Zavala frowned, turning towards Ikora. “You’ve worked with him on several sorties, and you used to run with him in the Crucible. What do you think of this?”

Ikora was silent for a long moment, appearing for a moment to have simply ignored Zavala while she read whatever was scrolling across her tablet. Just as he was about to repeat his question, Ikora spoke, still not looking up. “He’s come up with plans I’d never even consider, and they’ve always been successful in one way or another. Besides that,” she looked up with a small grin. “Cayde 6 makes me laugh. He’s a good morale boost.”

Looking back on the conversation, Zavala realized all of his doubts had been so very, very misplaced. When Oryx had attacked, it was Cayde who got them on the Dreadnaught. Cayde had went after Ghaul himself, and it was Cayde who so very often kept their Guardians smiling and gleefully blowing their enemies to Hell and back. Andal had been right, and while the man would be a presence that could never be replaced and always be missed, he, Osiris, and Saint 14 had left them the legacy of the Vanguard. A Legacy that could not have been as proud, or as successful, without Ikora and Cayde standing by Zavala’s side. The Tower would always miss their fallen and lost comrades, but their predecessors had left the City in good hands, and the future was all the brighter for it.

**Author's Note:**

> Find my tumblr arrogance-is-my-middlename.tumblr.com and yell at me about the old Vanguard, cus boy howdy I've got some fuckin' opinions.


End file.
